Book 1 of the Million Dollar Chronicles
by Sir Thomas
- provided for use on SirJeff's Ponygirls by the author.
- do not use without the author's permission.
I’ll describe the events of the following month as best as I can manage. The days seemed to blend and blur into one long session. With almost constant supervision and control I had little time to myself. Each day I had at most two hours of free time during waking hours. I had no days off. I was not entitled and I dared not ask.
Each day started with the exercise. The pony training continued to be the most difficult task. Each morning I was outfitted in pony gear and taught to be obedient. More difficult than pulling the cart was standing at attention. While the bars held me upright, the dildos put pressure inside my loins when I pulled my thighs together. Remaining perfectly still for the lengths of time they demanded made me ache more than the exercise. And they did demand exacting performance when I exercised. I had to lift my knees properly or they would use the buzzer on my anal dildo. They rarely signaled me to lower my knees. I almost always had to lift my knees high.
If I failed them I was shocked between the legs. It was nothing more than static electricity but it hurt. I couldn’t help but jump from the jolt. It did get results though. I rarely failed them the second time when they did that to me.
The remainder of the day was spent much as I have described earlier. Before each meal and before bed I would have to “entertain” Hugo. These acts were still hard for me to deal with. Hugo varied them slightly. Sometimes he used the training chocks to hold my mouth open. Sometimes he kept me bound but left my mouth free. And sometimes he simply let me service him without any bondage gear at all. After a week of this I had gotten used to it. It was no longer repulsive. It was just a job.
The evenings were an either/or affair. Either they would have me do a second march or I would spend the evening with my head between Marie’s knees. I didn’t like doing that either. I considered it degrading, even more so than servicing Hugo. Marie seemed to enjoy having control over me though. I guess that’s what I was being paid for.
Tuesday brought a slight change of plans. Around 1:00 in the afternoon Hugo wheeled in a three-foot cube made out of clear plastic. I could easily see that the inside contained many straps and at least one dildo. On the front was an electronic control panel with a number of buttons.
I was already showered and I had digested my lunch by then. Hugo told me to get my training collar with the mouth chocks. I found them in the closet where they were always kept. Hugo helped me install them.
I was helped into the box. Hugo had opened it from the front. There was a large hole for my head set in an angled panel along the front edge. Lower in front were a pair of holes for my hands. Hugo had me put them into the holes. Sliding panels were moved down and locked in place to prevent me from removing them. Hugo reached into the box and closed manacles around my ankles and upper calves to keep my legs positioned properly. Simple latches secured them. An anal dildo that was connected to a wire was slid in place. Hugo applied a lubricant first of course. Finally I lowered my head into the cutout and Hugo closed the lid.
Hugo used a T-shaped bar to push me along. He did not send me down the ramp however. I was grateful for that! Instead he took me to a well hidden pair of sliding doors and suddenly I realized they had an elevator in this place.
A few minutes later we arrived in the familiar parlor that Marie had allowed me to serve her so many times in the past week. I was positioned facing the side wall, thus presenting my profile to the centrally located couch where Marie always lounged.
While Paul and Marie had not yet arrived, we did already have an audience. Along the wall were a dozen girls dressed in tight leather outfits. Each was gagged with a head harness and firmly secured to a tall steel pole. They wore arm binders and high heel boots along with leather pants. They were secured to the poles at ankles, knees and neck by black steel bands. Each girl maintained an open-eyed stare which was made even more impressive by the huge ball wedged between their lips.
What were impressive about the arrangements were the colors they were dressed in. The girl on the left was dressed in violet and the girl on the right was dressed in red. Between them the colors spanned the entire spectrum going into the yellows, greens, and orange hues and finally red, as I mentioned. Each was placed in an alcove which was also decorated in the same shade. Small spotlights illuminated the curtain behind them. It was quite a show!
They were not the only audience though. Apparently this first encounter with Paul was a much bigger event because I was also under the gaze of my four remaining sex slave sisters. They were mounted in plastic cubes as I was. There was one difference. They all wore ball-gag harnesses and would probably not be used tonight. I was the guest of honor!
Hugo walked off to my right and sat on the couch. I couldn’t turn my head but I could hear the springs and the leather squeak. I continued to stare at the assemblage before me, my mouth agape and filled with the metal plug that I was just beginning to hate.
I suddenly heard footsteps and I knew the show was about to start. Both the sound of heels and heavier footsteps told me that Marie and Paul had arrived. I hoped I was ready for whatever they were about to throw at me.
“They look lovely, Paul,” I heard Marie say from behind. “You’re a master of design when it comes to bondage art. I’m really impressed.”
“Thank you. But I have to give credit to the local paint company’s advertisement. Their rainbow of colors ad caught my interest so I thought I’d use it as a theme for this setting. Works quite well I think.”
“Yes, it looks much nicer than the pussy vases, although I wouldn’t mind seeing them again for variety,” Marie remarked.
“Perhaps a merging of ideas would be in order. Let me work on it. In the meantime let’s see what fortune has delivered upon us,” Paul said in the airy tone that he always spoke in.
“Ah, peasant under glass,” Marie quipped as she walked into view. Paul appeared from the left as well. It was supposed to be funny. They seemed to enjoy it more than I did.
“I think I’ll warm her up and set the tone,” Paul said as he turned a dial on the control panel and flipped a switch. I suddenly felt a low pitched hum in my ass and I started an uncontrollable moaning a minute or two later. Since I was so tightly compressed the vibration went right through me and caused my entire lower half to buzz. It was annoying more than anything else. But somehow it excited me. I didn’t want it to but apparently the vibrations were stimulating my loins. I should have enjoyed it with the little amount of pleasure I had received below the waist. But I didn’t.
I watched Marie walk to each box and repeat the process on the four remaining sex slaves. As expected they all began showing the distress I was now feeling. I saw their eyes open wide. It was then that it dawned on me. That was the reason the bondage slaves all had wide eyes. Their dildos had already been turned on!
Marie sat on the couch next to Hugo so she could enjoy the show in comfort. With me in profile they would get an unobstructed view. Not only would they be able to see my trapped head perform its duty, but they would also be able to see my encased body squirm inside the Plexiglass.
“Attention, Casey!” Paul ordered. I immediately brought my eyes up to meet his. At that point he removed the dildo from my mouth and gave the second order, “Extend!”
My tongue came out obediently. At that point the scene was pretty standard. He opened his zipper and inserted his manhood into my mouth. As I had done many times during the past week I automatically began working him. It was for his benefit and mine. My benefit would be monetary, his physical.
All this time I kept my eyes straining to look up at him. And, of course, he stared back, verifying that I knew he had complete control over me. I had to look at him. My wide eyes told the whole story as my throat felt the intrusion of his cock. I couldn’t gaze at his crotch and watch how deep he was penetrating. I had to rely on him to do all the work. My job was to look at him and keep my upper lip pressed down upon him while my tongue massaged the underside of his manhood.
This went on for several minutes. After shooting his load he remained inside me, forcing me to sheath him for several more minutes while he critiqued my performance.
“She’s a little loose, Hugo. Have you been using the mouth plug? I want to get the ring into her by the end of the month.”
“I’ve been really busy and I don’t like having it in without supervision,” Hugo explained.
“Have her follow you. That’s what the leash dildo is for, Hugo. Perhaps you should hand her off to Greg now and get stuff ready for the new girl.”
I could hear Hugo argue with Paul for a few minutes longer but it was obvious that he would lose the argument. I don’t know what I did wrong but apparently he wasn’t completely satisfied. I was afraid I was going to suffer for it.
“You did quite well, dear. We’ll improve your performance with time but I’m quite pleased with your progress,” he said to me as my mouth remained gagged by his cock. “Let’s try this again. Squeeze me tighter with your upper lip and suck harder.”
A moment later he was hard and pumping. “Tighter!” he demanded. Suddenly I felt a shock in my anus. I clamped hard but I let my upper teeth touch him. I got another shock for that. A few minutes later he was finished with me and withdrew. The metal cock was inserted into my mouth and left there unsecured.
“Your turn,” he said to Hugo as he took his place next to Marie.
As Hugo performed his duty with me I heard a number of footsteps behind me. It was then I realized that the four trainers that were responsible for the remaining sex slaves had arrived. I only hoped they didn’t intend to all partake!
In fact, only one other was allowed to enter me. It was Greg. When he was finished, Hugo had been relieved and I was now the responsibility of a new trainer. Paul apparently decided who went with who. He even commanded Hugo. It was one of many surprises.
I was grateful to be pushed back to my room. Greg pushed me but Hugo walked with us as well. A short roll to the elevator and another trip along the balcony placed me back in my room.
Greg released me from the box and all the bondage gear. “Clean yourself up then get in the headstock,” he told me. I considered the order an ominous start. I could only imagine what he had in mind.
I was a sweaty mess when I stepped into the shower. The water felt good. Being cramped in such a small space had made me perspire profusely. I must have smelled like an animal. But I knew I had little time and it would be better not to waste too much time before getting into the stocks. So I dried myself off and walked into the bedroom naked. Fortunately Greg had left me alone. I had an order to complete. I dropped to my knees, opened the stocks and inserted my head. It locked in place once it had closed.
Ten minutes later Greg returned. “For the next few minutes you may talk freely, Casey. I know your first impression will probably be unfavorable but over time I’m sure you’ll understand my methods. I am much stricter than Hugo. I demand a higher standard of perfection. I do this not simply for my personal satisfaction but for yours as well. You are a slave and your goal at this time is to be the best slave possible. From what I’ve seen you are well on your way. Your performance was quite good for only having a week or so of training. I thought you did very well indeed.”
“Thank you,” I replied.
“Don’t thank me yet. I said you did well for only having a week of training. You have a long way to go. I’m especially concerned with your attitude. I can see your lack of enthusiasm for your oral duties. You don’t like doing it, right?”
“I’m getting paid to do it. I can manage,” I said.
“You won’t last with that attitude,” he replied. “You think you’ll get used to the idea but instead you’ll get annoyed. You can’t do something you hate for an entire year.”
“I have to,” I said.
“Then learn to enjoy it. Don’t think of it as a dirty act. Think of it as fun.”
“That’s not easy. My upbringing didn’t allow for this,” I said.
“Nobody is ever raised to do this. But women do find pleasure in oral sex. Women find pleasure in being bound, gagged, dominated. You’re going to have to find your own reasons to like these things. If you don’t, no matter what we do, you won’t last!”
He was right of course. I couldn’t last if I continued to think of these acts as depravity. I needed to rationalize this. No, that wasn’t right. I had to find a way to enjoy it. I just didn’t know how!
“I understand,” I said in resignation.
“Yes, I’m sure you do. But that’s not the subject of this discussion. The subject is attitude, not understanding. Will you change your way of thinking?”
“Yes!” I said defiantly, suddenly realizing that I was being challenged. It was both a challenge and a threat. He was trying to help by tell me that if I wanted to be rich I had to prevent my attitude from standing in the way of that goal. It was only then that I realized an all to obvious fact. I was performing these sex acts for money. I was a whore!
“Good,” he said. “We’ll pass on the lip service before dinner tonight. I’m sure you’ve had enough for the afternoon. We have an hour before dinner though and I think we need to start stretching your jaw a bit. Would you go get your white mouth plug, please?”
I didn’t exactly smile when he told me that little tidbit. But I obeyed him immediately after he removed me from the stocks. “Get a silver tongue sheath and a chain leash too,” he said as I walked to the closet.
I had been to the closet many times now and it took but a minute to find the items. I hadn’t worn them since I had first arrived. But I well remembered the discomfort when I did wear them. I didn’t look forward to this at all.
When I returned he simply signaled for me to kneel on both knees. I complied immediately.
“Open and stick out your tongue,” he said.
I obeyed. He responded by slipping the small silver sheath over my tongue. He had his little wrench handy and a second later the end of my tongue was bolted into it. A six-foot chain was connected to the silver loop. He let it hang to the floor. He then took the rubber plug and inserted the chain into the large hole. I felt the vibration as the chain was pulled through. Soon it was at my lips. I didn’t resist although I wanted to. It was a difficult ordeal. My jaw ached as I opened my mouth as wide as I could. He had to press firmly to get it in. “Wider,” he urged. I groaned. It wouldn’t fit! He pressed harder and a moment later my teeth mounted the rubber and slipped into the waiting groove. He finished by pulling the straps around my head and securing it carefully so as to keep my hair neat.
“Good girl,” he said as he began tugging at the chain, easing my tongue through the hole. Next he used the wrench on the left hole, slowly turning it and pulling on the chain. When he could feel the pin slip into the grommet he turned the wrench a full turn to lock it in place. The second pin was easier to locate. It was soon locked as well, capturing my tongue and stretching it flat.
“I’ll be back in an hour to remove it. Then I’ll let you have dinner. I’m afraid you’ll have to wear it again afterwards though. We need to get your jaw expanded so you can wear the big ring. Paul prefers to use a ring rather than jaw chocks so I want to get you acclimated.”
At that point he removed the chain from my tongue and left. The first thing I noticed was that I had an incredible capacity to drool. I had to rush to the bathroom to get a towel. While I was there I saw myself in the mirror. I certainly looked strange with a silver tongue sticking out of the white rubber plug. It disturbed me but I made no effort to remove the gag. Instead I simply wiped my chin and took the towel with me.
I watched a cooking show for an hour and waited for Greg’s return. I occupied the time by biting the gag, which I found eased the tension on my jaw. My teeth seemed to become stuck in the groove as I did this. I found the chin strap became just the tiniest bit slack in the process. While this actually eased the tension on my jaw, it was hardly enough to ease my distress. I also discovered that my teeth were trapped in the groove and this immobilized my jaw completely. This became quite annoying and I struggled for some time before I had any success in freeing them. Only my lower jaw came free. I was really beginning to hate this device!
When Greg did return he had me drop to one knee while taking up a position directly in front of him. I obediently complied as I had been trained. I assumed that this position was simply to make it convenient for him to remove the gag. I suppose it was but he had other reasons for this position I had assumed. “I’ve changed my mind. Open,” he commanded. After a moment to absorb the surprise and the shock, I did.
After a small intermission to clean up after my personal service to Greg, we ate a small meal together. He slid a short table out of a slot in the wall and placed chairs on either side of it. Greg had retrieved a pair of meals from a lunch tray, commenting that he always ate with his assigned girl. “We’ll always eat the exact same dinner,” he said. “Also, during these meals you are out of scene and may speak freely.”
I didn’t have much to say but we got to know each other very well. I found that he was from Chicago and had been into bondage for eight years. He was never married, had no children and hadn’t had a relationship for two years. I told him of my ambitions and the problems I had getting a job.
“That’s pretty common,” he said to this remark. “It’s a rough occupation.”
“I know. Maybe I don’t have the right body. Maybe I have too wide of a frame?”
“Your frame is fine. You just need a little touch here and there. Nothing a little exercise can’t fix.”
“And I’m sure I’ll get plenty of that,” I said jokingly.
I was glad to have had this conversation with Greg. He seemed a lot nicer than I had originally thought. I knew he was strict but now I understood why. It was that perfectionist thing. He would be judged on my performance. It was a status thing. If I showed a lack of poise or an unwillingness to be totally subservient, he would not get the respect he deserved. He had pride in his work. And his work was me!
“You’ll be my pet for the rest of the evening and I need to stretch your jaw quite a bit more. Go to the bathroom and rinse well. I’ll get the gear I want you to wear.”
After several rinses using the supplied mouthwash I returned to find Greg with an entire outfit laid out at the dressing table. The first thing to be applied was a three inch wide red collar. It had the standard front and rear rings riveted to heavy gold plates. The base conformed to my neckline and the upper edge flared to fit under my chin and tightly against the back of my neck. With the collar in place I couldn’t move my head. It also forced my head backwards to an awkward angle. I was forced to look at the ceiling.
Next came the belt. It was red as well with a large gold emblem of a horse on the front. The buckle was in the rear. It fit perfectly around my hips and went right up to the base of my breasts. The belt was equipped with a halter style web of gold chains. These went over my breasts and were connected to the lower edge of the collar.
I was still wearing both dildos so there was no need to attend to those areas. Well, that’s not exactly true. Greg did insert a short furry tail into the socket. It wasn’t as long as the pony tail I had worn before. I had a feeling I knew what he had in mind.
My hands were next. I assumed he was going to pin my hands behind my back as was apparently customary. Instead he placed short mittens on my hands. These were heavily padded. When I inserted my hands I found I had little movement in my fingers. The single cuffs were buckled in place and locked. I could no longer grip anything.
The boots were next. They were most unusual in the fact that they were pointed but had no heel. Obviously I couldn’t walk in them at all. He had me lay on my belly so he could slip them up my legs. I had to point my toes severely in order to get my foot all the way in. The red colored leather went right up to my crotch. The upper part of the boot was zippered both underneath and on top. Small locks would prevent the zipper from becoming undone.
That left only my mouth to be taken care of. It was the thing I most dreaded. For this I was forced to sit on my heels. He grabbed the ring on the back of my collar and lifted. I quickly assisted him by pushing up with my hands.
Of course the first item to take care of was my tongue. I obediently extended it so he could slide the metal sheath over it. A single screw was inserted and secured at the tip. Then he clipped a gold chain to the ring on the end. Now came the part I hated most. I saw the huge mouth plug come toward my lips as he threaded the chain through the large hole in it. When it got to my lips he pulled firmly on the chain. I had no choice but to open my mouth. I groaned and choked as the rubber device entered past my teeth. “Wider, Casey,” he coaxed in a soft voice. I groaned again and stretched my jaw as far as I could. With a firm push it popped into my mouth. My teeth seated into the grooves and my mouth was sealed, only a small silver tongue extending from the wide hole.
A second later he had the tool inserted into one of the sockets at the corner of my mouth. Gently pulling on the chain he turned the screw, feeling for the catch to seat properly. A moment later I felt the pin seat in the hole and one side of my tongue was secured. With the right pin already aligned, the left pin took little time to secure. I really hated this gag!
He didn’t use a head harness with this gag and that surprised me. In fact the plug had no straps at all. Instead he began slipping my head into a leather hood. It was heavy but it had holes for my eyes, nose, and even my tongue. It laced in the back and had a thin chain laced into the lower edge. Once it was laced securely a zipper was brought down and sandwiched between the ends of the chain. A single, small padlock secured it all. When he had finished it felt like my head was inside a tight balloon.
He took several minutes to examine the hood and the collar. He wanted the fit to be perfect. First he made sure my nose ring extended properly through the hole provided in the hood. He also checked that my eyes were centered in their holes and that my tongue was properly positioned. He placed me on my hands and knees and adjusted the collar, attaching the leash in the process.
“Eyes forward! Keep your head erect and proud, Casey,” he said, starting my training as his pet.
“Keep your knees close and your back straight. Force your knuckles forward and force the heels of your hands on the floor. When you pose, keep your arms and thighs perfectly vertical.”
I did as he asked. I didn’t find it hard to follow his commands. Perhaps it was because of all the bondage gear. It made me feel like something sub-human. Yet it also made me crave direction. It’s hard to describe. It was almost as if the leather was magically transforming me into an animal. I actually wanted to obey him!
“Let’s go, Casey,” he commanded. He kept firm pressure on the leash pulling my head erect. “Keep your elbows locked and your head high. Eyes straight ahead.”
I was made to crawl for some time like this. Greg took me to the lower level and had me walk back and forth across the concrete floor. He kept firm command of me during the entire period. We stopped often. He corrected my posture with small corrective shocks. He corrected me often with regard to how I held my hands. I often lifted my palms off the floor. I also tended to turn my hands outward. “Paws straight! Heels down! Knees together!” he would command. Then I would cringe in anticipation of the shocks I knew were coming. And they always did!
I learned quickly. Being forced to act the part of a dog, I was surprised to discover that he had no intention of teaching me any tricks. I didn’t have to bark or roll over or play dead. All I had to do was crawl proudly and stand at what Greg called “The pose”.
In less than an hour I was ready to be taken through the house and presented to the staff. Greg seemed proud to show me to the other trainers. We went the entire length of the complex, ending up in the bondage slave section on the far side of the structure.
He seemed to have quite a few friends amongst the trainers over there. The slaves seemed to be familiar with him as well. The trainers were all male and the slaves were all female. I wonder if these people ever heard of equal rights.
We marched slowly, me at his right side. He held the leash firmly and always pulled on it to lift my head. He talked to me constantly, providing me with guidance for my first day as his pet. “Walk proud, Casey. Don’t hang your head. Lift it high. Keep your elbows straight. You’re my pet! That’s a great honor. Act like you appreciate it.”
At one point during the tour we entered one of the bondage slave’s apartments. It was occupied by three slaves, all tall and blonde, and one trainer, who also happened to be tall and blonde. The trainer paid little attention to me but the three girls seemed fascinated by my presence.
“What’s her name,” the one girl asked.
“Casey,” Greg replied. “Casey, this is Cleo, Freda, and Ginger. They’re bondage slaves as you’ve probably guessed.”
Cleo, the one who had asked for my name, approached and knelt beside me. The first thing she did was squeeze my cheeks and pet my head. “I’m so grateful I only had to wear that gag when I first arrived. I can imagine how much your jaw must hurt, Honey. You make a really nice pet. Very few get to be put in this outfit you know. It’s an honor to be someone’s personal pet. You should be proud to be Greg’s little dog. He’s an excellent trainer. I had him for three months. Trust me; you’ll really like his work. He’s a true artist.”
The other two girls essentially repeated what Cleo had said. They petted me and checked the stretch of the leather around my face and scalp. They checked my boots and even corrected my posture, lifting my chin if necessary or turning my hands to make them point directly forward.
The trainer, who Greg introduced as Adam, simply commented on what he saw as a fine animal. “Marie will like this one,” he commented. “It’s been a while since she’s approved of a personal pet. How did you convince her?”
“I told her she simply needed a change of pace. I thought she was getting bored with the pony stuff so I thought this would be better. Besides, she just serviced Paul today for the first time and I thought it would be a nice addition to the regimen. Marie agreed. Besides, she thinks this one is special. She wants this one to last.”
“She likes the scene?”
“She craves variety. At least that’s what Hugo told me. We’re varying the environment as much as possible in order to accommodate her. I might suggest the same here. Might improve your girl’s performance.”
“Thanks, I might try a few new things.”
“Hey, I have to run. The king and queen are waiting. They want to see what nature and leather hath wrought.”
I had been in this outfit for nearly two hours now. My jaw no longer hurt from being stretched to its limit. Instead it felt sort of natural to hold my mouth open. I suppose this was the intended reason for this huge mouth plug I had to wear. My knees hurt a little and so did my shoulders. The collar supported my neck but the area under my chin was sore from the tight pull of the hood.
Greg pulled on my leash and guided me along. I was getting used to his demand for strict discipline. I held my head high and paid close attention to the position of my hands and legs. He didn’t seem to have a problem with the way I was crawling now. But he didn’t necessarily praise me for the way I was behaving either. It was as if it was expected of me to crawl stiffly like this. I suppose it was.
Eventually we found ourselves in the presence of Marie and Paul. Marie was ecstatic when we arrived. She immediately went to me and knelt beside me. I remained perfectly motionless while Greg maintained firm tension on my leash as he had done constantly for the last two hours. Marie played with my nose ring and the silver-sheathed tongue that protruded from the leather mask. She then moved down to my hanging breasts and checked out the rest of my body as well. She even ran her hands over my calves and the pointed spikes of the boots.
“She’s magnificent! How has she been handling the new role?” she asked as she returned to my head, petting me gently.
“No problems at all. Then again, we haven’t done anything more than posture training.”
“Good. Any word on when the outfit will be here?”
“Two weeks at the earliest. There was some sort of glitch in the order. Something about a strike in Belgium. We’ll just have to be patient.”
“I suppose. How about the muzzle?”
“We’ll have that next Monday I think. She needs a bit more stretching before we can use that though. The muzzle’s pretty ugly without the fur covering. You’ve said that yourself.”
“Well, we still have pony training and our evening sessions to keep us entertained. I suppose we’ll have to exercise a little restraint.”
“We’re good at restraint,” Greg quipped.
“Yes, we are!” Marie said with a laugh.
Marie took my leash and led me through the mansion for a while. She tired of the activity after a few minutes and handed me back to Greg. Greg took me back to my room, again maintaining strict control over me.
By the time he had released me from the bonds I was thoroughly exhausted. Crawling seemed to require an unbelievable amount of energy. I was covered in sweat and my hair was matted from being enclosed in the hot leather hood.
“You did well tonight. One last task and I’ll let you get some sleep,” he said as he removed the gag.
The task was exactly as I had come to expect. I crawled over to the familiar lounge chair and took my position. Greg had me open my mouth. The rest you can figure out.
To be continued...